


And Satisfaction Brought it Back

by KowaiYumeDesuka



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Tags will be added as they become noticed or applicable, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-14
Updated: 2012-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-03 15:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KowaiYumeDesuka/pseuds/KowaiYumeDesuka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out of a strange sense of curiosity after the kids and trolls meet up, Jake English decides to ask Dave Strider to send him back in time to meet Dave's Bro. Somehow, Paradox Space allows this, and through the intense level of shenanigans that ensue that will mess with everyone involved in every way, there is only one thing that is for certain.</p>
<p>Jake's and Dirk's futures were to be intricately intertwined, forever and always, under any circumstances, and whether or not it was good for anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ==> Dave: Be the Courier

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the phrase, "Curiosity killed the cat, and satisfaction brought it back.", in case you've only heard the first part. I don't remember where I first heard the second part, and I don't know if it's good for life lessons, but if it works for now, then it works.
> 
> Might add the archive warning of "Underage" later, if I am in the mood to write that at some point, but according to the explanation it's only necessary for explicit things. If that happens, the rating will also go to explicit. As it is, be prepared for it to go to Mature if it suits my whims later on.
> 
> Roxy and Dirk will not be addressed as having come from the future, and somehow everyone's met up in one place.
> 
> I don't know enough old lingo to write Jake properly, nor can I rap, so neither of the two will be added other than maybe phrases I've seen Jake use elsewhere. Just a fair warning.

==> Dave: Be the courier.

Your name is Dave Strider, and you are a fully realized Knight of Time in a conversation with John Egbert, one of your closest friends, and Roxy Lalonde, the ecto-mother / child-in--the-new-timeline of another of your closest friends, who is in this case your ecto-sister, as well. The two of them chatter animatedly about pointless things, and you occasionally add in a decisively ironic quip, but when you hear a soft, “Ahem, David Strider?” behind you, you’re uninvolved enough in the conversation to turn around.

The one who just spoke was Jake English, the grandfather/son / ecto-father/son of the last of your closest friends. You incline your head slightly to acknowledge him, and mention that “Just Dave is cool.”

He nods in return, and looks a bit anxious as he says, “All right, then, um, Dave. Might we speak elsewhere?” With a small gesture, he points out a smaller room that’s currently not occupied by any of other kids or trolls, who are all either socializing or avoiding socializing before it’s time to alchemize dinner.

For the time being, everyone is sitting on the golden ship that Jade and John rode into the new session, which is perched on Prospit. The amount of bright gold, both on the ship and the moon, sometimes feels like it’s searing your eyes through your shades, but you admit that it’s nicer than dark and shady Derse, with only your ecto-sister to speak to if you both happened to be asleep at once. Here, there are more people than you’ve ever wanted to interact with, but that’s not really something that you mind most of the time.

(When he asked how Rose had dealt with the sheer amounts of bright gold, she said that her traffic-cone sari/godtier pajamas had probably been preparing her retinas for this visory onslaught. You’ve seen her in a darker corner of a room on occasion, though, with her hood pulled down as far as it would go and her eyes obviously closed. In fact, it’s the same corner than you’ve sometimes used.

You haven’t talked to Dirk and Roxy about the visual change specifically, but it seems that Roxy hasn’t yet woken up in full, and you’ve seen Dirk wincing and occasionally taking advantage of that corner. You’re considering hanging up a little purple Derse banner there for ironic purposes, actually.)

Jake hasn’t yet noticed that you’ve drifted off into your own thoughts, about colors of all things, so you snap yourself back before he does. “Sure,” you reply as you begin shuffling in that direction, “As long as you’re not planning anything... untoward.” You can’t help but snark a little, he looks more than a little bit like John and the urge to tease your bucktoothed windyboy is one that calls often and can’t be ignored.

“Of course not!” He splutters a bit too quickly, and follows you. The two of you acknowledge John and Roxy’s “See you guys later!”s, and then in the other room you lean against the wall in your typical position and speak.

“So, what exactly is it that you need a Strider level of expertise for? And before you ask, I don’t do sexual favors.”

“I-- What is it with you Striders and sexual phrases lately?” He frowns at you, and you resist the urge to snort just a little bit.

“We’ve got a bet going to see who can make more. Want to let me know how my competition’s doing?” You deadpan.

“Are you being serious?”

“That’s a mystery for the ages.” And, no, you’re not going to even mentally impart whether that was actually a thing that happened.

“Augh. Might we just ignore that and, er.” He’s fidgeting again, though you hadn’t noticed when he’d stopped.

“You gotta let me know what you need help with before I can help, kid. Unless you need a therapist to help you handle all of these crazies running around, then Rose is your man. Or chick. She’ll gladly take your brain out and smush it on the floor to discover all of its hidden patterns and subtleties for you.”

“I’m sure Rose is a perfectly lovely young lady, despite your description of her interests, but this is something that I require the help of a hero of Time for.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrows have risen noticeably above your shades, but he pointedly pretends to not notice. “Why’s that?”

“You... When you were growing up, Dirk was your elder brother, right?” His words have started to rush a bit, like he’s a bit embarrassed to be asking.

Now your eyebrows edge even further up, but you coolly reply, “Yeah. Any reason you’re asking?”

“Would it be at all possible for you to travel back to a point in your childhood?”

“Well, not normally.” You keep talking right over his crestfallen look. “But with my echeladder and my recently upgraded turntables,” You take them out from your sylladex, and god damn they are fancy now. Your fingers are itching to be touching them, guiding them, and cranking out sick beats already, but you stay your hands and keep talking, “With some effort, it’s pretty possible.”

He brightens up again, but you don’t let him say anything before you ask, “So, why are you interested in my childhood? Are you some kind of sick pedophile, because don’t think I’m letting you anywhere near little me with that kind of mindset.”

“Of course not!” He exclaims. “I just wanted to ask if it’s possible... to meet... your, ah, older brother.”

“He’s your friend from your universe, you could probably find him right now if you wanted.”

“No, I mean, I want to meet him when he was older, and perhaps has gone through other experiences...” He trails off at the strange expression you have, which is probably showing on anything not covered by your shades.

“I got it, so you want to scope out what you have to look forward to if you do end up asking my bro out. That’s cool.” Again, you steamroll over his (weak) protestations that he had no intentions of doing such a thing, goodness Dave how did such a conclusion even begin to form in your head, to point out something else that’s pretty important.

“It’s almost definitely not a good idea, though. Time isn’t something you can force. Either you roll with whatever it throws at you or you end up punched into a doomed timeline,” and your only choice is to go back and warn Alpha Dave, as the Daves unfortunate enough to fall into doomed timelines have told you, and then suffer and wait for your timeline to collapse, “and if this isn’t something that’s already happened then it’s not something that’s supposed to happen and trying can only end badly.”

He frowns a bit, his intents to confirm his “purely platonic broship with Strider, ah, Dirk I suppose” pushed aside as he comprehends what you’re saying.

You know he’ll understand it, though, because it’s been watered down enough for people to understand as long as they can get that paradox space is not fond of fuck-ups. The little niches of Time, which even you have only a vague awareness of, seem to be totally incomprehensible to those who can’t feel the pulse of Time flowing around them.

“So, it’s probably not possible?” He confirms.

“Probably not... Wait.” You were about to agree and send him on his merry way, but then something occurred to you.

A few periods along your childhood when things with your brother had been just a bit out of place from the norm.

And then slowly, but surely, the picture comes into focus, and you can’t help the chuckle or three that escape from you.

He gives you an odd stare, which you wave off. “So that’s what he was doing... Looks like the Strider Express Through Time is actually open and ready for business, man. First ride’s for free. Are you boarding?”

His bewildered expression is plastered all over his body language, but he gives you a slow, jerky nod. “Certainly, if that’s all right with you... Um, right now?”

You raise your hands to a ready position, your turntables positioning themselves just underneath, and you say, “We can leave whenever you’re ready. Time is on our side here.”

“Well, I suppose there’s not much to be done in preparation, and as such... I suppose now is as good a time as any!”

“Sure. Grab the back of my shirt or something, but don’t move me till we’re there.” He moves behind you, and you feel a slight tug as he hesitantly takes hold. Confident that you won’t somehow lose him on the way this way, you allow your hands to descend.

This frame of time spins out of your senses, and you submerge yourself in the flow of time. Though your destination is distant in a metaphorical sort of way, your skill with your turntables is enough to get you there, and you’re more than a little proud of the sweet beats that your ministrations cause time to make in the process even if you’re the only one who can really hear them at the moment that you’re feeling.

The two of you pop out of the stream of time into a bush just behind the record store that would later be flattened by a meteor bearing your little baby self. Right now, however, it is very much intact, and also of interest to you because this was where the timeline seemed to want you two, and additionally your Bro can be seen through the window at the checkout counter.

This seems as good a time as any.

==> Jake: Meet up with your closest bro from another version of your universe who has no idea who the fuck you are.


	2. ==> Jake: Meet up with your closest bro from another version of your universe who has no idea who the fuck you are.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake and Bro/Dirk meet, and despite a strange and slightly rocky start and an untalkative Strider, things turn out pretty well. All things considering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, sorry it took me a while to update! Thank you for the kudos, I was very excited to receive them, and, well, yes. Okay.
> 
> So I said that the whole Strider/Lalonde future thing wouldn't be mentioned, but it's still applicable. There's just not going to be a huge revelation about it and Jake is not going to learn of it in this fic because that's not the focus here and I don't really feel like it. Also I tried to look up old phrases and I couldn't find any way to comfortably use the ones I found, so.
> 
> Hm, there's not a ton to say right now. Bro Strider acts more jerk-ish than Dirk Strider of the Alpha Universe, because of varying upbringings, etc. I haven't checked over this chapter for mistakes yet, but I'm pressed for time because of various things, so if I have time once everything's done, then I'll do so. I thought it was only proper of me to post what I have, though, because it's been a while considering that this is a new fic. I don't want to feel guilty about hiatuses until later. Ha...

==> Jake: Meet up with your closest bro from another version of your universe who has no idea who the fuck you are.

Right. You are kind of having a few doubts about that right now! In fact, a lot of doubts because does it really count as adventurous to be creeping on your chum’s alternate universe older self? 

Regardless, you’re sure to pay attention when Dave begins to speak and the two of you extract yourselves from the bush and try to look like you didn’t just emerge from a bush, because you don’t really want to be entirely out of the know about any information he is willing to give you about this situation that you’ve pushed yourself into.

“I figured it’d be best to send you a bit before I come along, since as far as I know he became twenty times more of an antisocial bastard after he figured out that you can’t leave a baby by itself an entire day,” he’s saying, and you’re uncertain of whether you want to laugh because that sounds like something that Dirk wouldn’t get, or if you want to be seriously concerned for what kind of childhood Dave had had.

You decide not to address either, and instead ask, “So, how old would he be at this point in time?”

“This is about a year before this place gets trashed by a meteor, a pony, and the coolest goddamn baby anyone will ever find, so he’s around seventeen.”

“Not that much older than us, then.”

“Nope, but his life is totally different, and also you can ogle your hunky dreamboat older version of my bro later from your point of view. Just be ready, ‘cause he’s probably the biggest asshole slash douchebag that you will ever meet.”

You begin to protest that that was never your intention from the start and that Dirk can’t be so bad, but he holds up a finger to shush you.

“Looks like it’s almost time to get this party on the road,” Dave gestures to the window, where the cashier and Dirk have finished talking and checking out, “So I’m just gonna let you know. Don’t do anything that seems like it’ll totally fuck up the timeline, play nice with the other kids on the playground, and I’ll be back to pick you up here at the end of the day, okay sweetie?”

Apparently, he doesn’t notice or care about your reaction to his ironic mothering, as he instead spins you to face the sparse crowd on the sidewalk and gives you a hard shove that sends you into the middle of it (the store is pretty small, so the distance isn’t that huge, but it was took a painfully hard shove to get you there) as he says, “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

You spin around while you’re still off balance and flustered to exclaim, “What the actual fuck, Strider--” at him, but his hands are descending and you only catch a glimpse of a strangely wide (for a Strider) smirk on his face before he flashes out of this time.

Unfortunately, you were so off balance and flustered that you didn’t even notice a few vital things until now.

First, you are on the verge of falling right over.

Second, Dirk Strider has already left the shop with his purchase and is, in fact, right next to you.

Third, you are on the verge of falling right over into Dirk Strider who is standing right next to you.

Thankfully, you are spared the awkwardness of falling onto him, although not the awkwardness of falling. He simply flashsteps out of your way and waits for you to stand up.

When you do so and try to pretend like you’re not totally embarrassed by your display, he makes it obvious that he’s looking at you through his shades (though you could tell before, seeing as you’re familiar enough with Dirk from your timeline), and says, “Do I know you, kid?”

“I, er, no? Why do you ask?” You’re a little perplexed, but then you try to look him in the face and you feel like you’ve been slapped in the face with all of the similarities and differences he has with your Dirk.

The first similarities that you notice are, of course, the pointy anime shades, the pointed hair, and the ever-straight-with-the-slightest-downturn mouth, and the first difference is the hat covering the majority of the pointed hair that you’re used to.

You vaguely wonder what circumstances lead to him wearing the hat, as you can remember Dirk bemoaning the fact that he loved hats but couldn’t stand to mess up his hair on more than one occasion, but before that thought can become coherent the other thoughts are on its heels and chase it out for the time being.

Often, especially when you’d first met Dirk in person, and even on occasion when you’d been speaking to him over the internet, you’d thought that he was the hardest person to approach that you’d ever met, although you’d got along with him quite well anyhow.

Where your Dirk had been hard to approach, however, this Dirk is an iron wall standing before you. Your Dirk had been withdrawn in a way that you felt implied that he was unused to interacting with others and was scornful of most of those he met on the internet (not you, Jane, or Roxy, though, which is wonderful, of course) but maybe, if he found the right people, he’d be willing to reach out.

This Dirk, however, has the air of having had to interact with too many people that he disliked, and he downright no longer wished to reach out to anyone.

This thought saddens you a bit, and you almost miss what he says in response.

“You called out Strider, and as far as I’m aware Striders like myself are a rare commodity around here.” You blanch just a little bit and silently curse Dave.

“Oh, haha! That was just... a friend of mine who came with me here from, well, somewhere, and we call him that because... he... walks too confidently! Or something along those lines.” It’s painfully obvious that you’re bullshitting this and it’s painfully obvious that he sees right through it, but he shrugs.

“Sure. Whatever.” He seems to be finished with this conversation, but you are immediately aware that you don’t want to let him just leave. If you try to talk to him later, it might end up looking downright weird and creepy, but you can’t just not talk to him. That was the whole point of getting Dave to send you back, and you really are curious about him, and by golly you started this adventure and you are going to see it through!

“So, your name is Strider?” You question, maybe a little bit on the quick side.

His attention returns to you, and a blonde eyebrow raises itself just a little bit over the edge of the shades. “Yes, but I fail to see why you care.”

“Can’t a dude care about a guy that he almost endangered with his own stupidity?” Somehow, you manage to speak properly despite how you can’t help but continue trying to take in everything about him that you can even distantly relate to your Dirk. Considering that they’re kind of the same person, that is a lot to take in.

He’s more muscular and masculine and angular than Dirk by a fair bit, although not so much that he’s outright built differently, and that expression is just a more distant version of one that you’ve seen before many times.

His response also has a tone that you know, but with more condescension than you’ve ever heard directed at you in it. “Kid, I was never in any danger.”

You frown at him. “Fine, then maybe I was just curious!”

“Is there any reason for you to be curious?”

“Not really,” anything you can tell him, “ but--”

“Then seeya.”

“Wait, D... Strider!” He looks at you again, and lets exasperation show in his body language.

“Seriously, what.”

“I, here, just listen. We’re here on a trip, and my, family I suppose, basically told me to wander around and interact with people, and I’m not allowed back until the end of the day. Could you at least, perhaps, direct me to someplace that’s not bad to hang out where I might stay for a bit?” It’s not totally a lie, if you pretend that Dave is your family, and you consider everyone on the ship to be your family in a silly way.

His expression changes very subtly. There’s only the slightest change in his disposition, but you can sense and read it well enough. He can’t help but empathize, so you suppose he’s been forced to do something similar by whoever raised him in this timeline.

“... All right,” he relents, “I’ll take you to a cheap coffee shop near here, but after that I don’t plan to bother with you anymore.” You silently cheer with success. This is a step in the right direction, and Dirk has often complained to you that you are the one who most often throws his plans off.

“My thanks, Strider!” You exclaim, grinning widely. He gives you a dismissive noise and begins walking along the sidewalk.

You follow in good cheer, and the two of you make small talk as you walk. Well, you make small talk while he grunts in vague acknowledgement if it’s necessary, although after a while he becomes slightly less outright dismissive. The walk is longer than he implied, but still fairly short. Nonetheless, it was long enough that by the time the two of you stop in front of the door, he had even occasionally let out a “sure” or “nah” when you became especially excited or vehement.

Now, before the door, he hesitates like he had originally planned to leave you here.

Only for a brief instant, however, and then you’re walking in together.

You offer to pay for him for his troubles (thankfully, you have normal currency that isn’t boonbucks in your sylladex, for some reason that you don’t remember at this point), but he waves you off without even looking at you and orders something with a ridiculously long name that you suspect that he’s getting precisely for that reason. You then place your own order, and the two of you get your drinks once they’re ready and get seats.

For a few minutes, you continue chattering at him, and at one point when he seems more receptive than he normally is, you strike. Your desire is simply too strong to combat.

“So, what do you do around here?” Your desire for knowledge has now directed you towards questions, and you are fairly certain that without any way to put a lid on them they will probably get invasive fairly quickly, but right now you are content to learn about his lifestyle in this world.

He seems a little surprised that you’re asking him an actual question now, instead of a hypothetical one, but he responds after a few moments. “I graduated early, so I do pizza delivery and odd jobs around. I have plans to start DJing at a club as soon as I’m either old enough to do so legally, or the club is willing to overlook my age.” He says this like he doesn’t care what you think, but you smile widely at him nonetheless.

“Sounds like a solid plan to me! I’d recommend that you wait, though. The age limits are always there for a reason, after all.”

“Mostly just to keep minors away from alcohol, but it’s not like that would be a problem for me.” His voice is just a little bit sullen, like he’s already argued this with someone before.

“Yes, well, there’s a good reason to not give alcohol to minors. I mean, Roxy’s a dear, but sometimes it gets far too out of hand...” You trail off. A handful of Roxy’s drunken shenanigans that various people have suffered on the ship were nigh on legendary for the ship’s residents and the occasional unlucky Prospitian. Of course, you’d known she was fond of drink beforehand, but talking to her face to face often went downright crazy very quickly. That wasn’t necessarily a problem, but sometimes...

But you digress. And now it’s time to listen for Dirk’s response, so you do so. It’s lucky that you did in time, because he only says one word. “Roxy?” he inquires, shooting you a strange look.

“Oh. She’s a friend of mine, who started drinking due to... I hesitate to say parental neglect, but...”

He nods and releases you from your awkward train of thought, and for at least a minute the two of you sit silently, engrossed in your individual thoughts.

Eventually, you begin speaking again, and he listens and adds the occasional input, like before, and although the two of you get up several times for refills and occasionally snacks, it’s not until you look around and the establishment is nearly empty that you realize that the day is nearly done. When you look around, he does the same, and you can see his eyebrows shoot up in surprise that he could lose track of time like that.

The Dirk from your universe did that a lot, too, actually. This thought leads you back onto the track of similarities and differences in the few moments before he speaks.

“... I’m guessing it’s been long enough that you can go back now,” he mumbles. You frown, not quite wanting to leave and also not quite sure if you would see him again if you left.

“Yes, I suppose,” you reply, caution in your tone.

“...”

“... Say, Strider?”

“Yes?”

“Might we, oh I don’t know, meet up at this place tomorrow? At noon, perhaps? We don’t have to stay here the entire day like we did today.”

“I’ll be working tomorrow at noon.”

“Oh. On a Sunday?”

“Yeah.”

“...”

“... I could meet you at two, though.”

“That would be splendid!”

“It might.” The faintest trace of a smile begins to curve his lips.

“Well then, I suppose I must take my leave.” You stand up and he follows, and at the door you address him again. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, then!”

“Yep.” You wave at him as you walk back in the direction of the record store, and he reciprocates with a short little ironic nod before striding (snort) in what is presumably the direction of his own home.

It’s all you can do to keep from skipping the rest of the way once you’re totally out of his sight, although you make an attempt to be Hollywood-covert as you dive into the bushes behind the record store.

You see Dave flicker in and out of the timeframe for a second, and then he apparently notices you and reappears. “Let me guess, your first meeting with your future husbandu went well?”

“Will you lay off on that? I’m not romantically invested in this, I was just... curious, is all!”

“Sure, sure. Any delicious details to tell me or what?”

“Not particularly, but could you return us here around 1:30 tomorrow?” You forget to be sheepish, and your excitement obviously shows through, and Dave definitely notices, although he doesn’t comment on it.

“Sure, whatever. Now? From our point of view, I mean.”

“Uh, if it’s not any bother, might we return to the ship so I can--”

“Freshen up and look your best for your date?”

“Strider!”

“Making a huge jump like this is a huge pain, though. Man, I should’ve expected that you wouldn’t even give a thought to your poor little time-traveller, ferrying you across the vast oceans of time to meet up with your star-crossed lover or whatever.”

“Star-crossed-- Augh, forget that. If it’s too much of a bother, then it’s fine--”

“It’s actually not that big of a deal, I’m just messing with you here.” Why on Earth, or Skaia, or anywhere, do you spend so much time with so many infuriating Striders?

The voice in the back of your head laughs merrily and tells you that it was your own choice to interact with at least one of them, and it was still pretty much your own choice to interact with any of them at any time.

You were about to politely tell the voice off, but Dave’s voice coolly slides its way into your thought process. “Right, grab on again, Strider Express is heading out in some number of seconds, choo choo and all that shit.”

For what seems like a mere instant to you, your senses drop away and the feeling of something intricate, immense, and impossible to understand brushes against you, and then you’re back in the room in the ship on Prospit.

“Go take a nap and wash up or whatever. I’m not taking you again till tomorrow. Seeya.” he releases a minute little yawn and wanders off in whatever direction.

You wonder if the time travelling really was taking such a toll on him-- You’d had trouble totally wrapping your mind around the concept that the other four humans had explained about a previous, Scratched universe, but you supposed it would be pretty taxing. With that thought in mind, you trot in the direction of your own room and vaguely decide that you’ll figure out how to make it easier on him later.

Right now, though, spending the better part of a day pretty much holding up a conversation with minimal help from your conversational partner has made you pretty tired. Once you’re on your bed, you fall asleep quickly.

==> Jake: Dream a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should come out a lot sooner, because I'm planning for it to be a lot shorter. This chapter was actually supposed to include more stuff, but I wanted to fit one day into one chapter and by the end of the coffee shop scene it was already 6 pages. I'm aware that to some people, that's not much, but it was longer than the first chapter and also my bursts of inspiration are so short that I have to get the chapters done as quickly as possible.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you're willing to wait for the next chapter~


	3. ==> Jake: Dream a little bit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams may seem insubstantial, but sometimes they have significance, whether for now or later events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say this would be out quickly, sorry, I am the mouse whose carefully built nest has just been overturned, now I shall freeze and starve over the winter unless I get my shit together.
> 
> There's not much to say here, this is just kind of random filling while I try to consolidate my headcanons on Bro Strider, I guess. It was going to be more meaningful, but now it's just some strange things and maybe a tinge of foreshadowing? Or maybe it's a red herring, or maybe you won't even notice it.
> 
> Or maybe you don't care?
> 
> Haha. Please try to enjoy it! Sorry that I'm pretty inconsistent with, like, everything. I haven't tried to write more than fluffy oneshots that aren't posted anywhere in a while. It probably shows... Gosh, maybe I should find a beta to kick my arse into gear and make sure I'm not being really bad about this. Or maybe I need to take the time to revise everything in all the chapters later. Maybe after school's over. Summer will be my friend and therefore maybe my fics's friend. Also the ending is rushed because it's late for me right now and I don't want to wait another night because I'm silly. No, I didn't start rambling. Shhh. Just read.

==> Jake: Dream a little bit.

For a moment, or an eternity, you feel really confused. This is probably because you have the strangest feeling that you were just, sleeptalking to someone maybe? Except that would be the strangest thing, because you’re pretty sure that you’re sleeping right now.

Around you seems to be a mass of swirly pearly substance, but just as soon as you notice it it consolidates itself into your house.

Okay. This isn’t the strangest dream you’ve ever had, but for some reason it feels like it. For one thing, your dreams are usually very jumbled and confusing, and tend to have a focal point on either adventuring somewhere, cerulean ladies, or your friends. Particularly Dirk, you think, but you can’t be sure because your dreams always tended to fade away quickly.

Also, you did not just say that you thought you dreamt about Dirk often. Nothing of the sort! Nothing. At all. There was not one single mention of any such thing!

Thankfully, you’re distracted from your pointless ramblings by what appears to be a purple spot in the distance, slowly making its way to you in a very meandering sort of way. It also seems to be floating. Wait, since when were you on the balcony? In fact, double that wait because was there even a balcony here before?

You’re really not sure what to make of any of this, so you spend an indefinite amount of time pondering until the spot comes closer into view. It seems to be...

… Roxy?

You wave at her and shout a bit, but she doesn’t seem to comprehend you. She does, however, continue on a not very straight path towards you.

Eventually, she’s close enough that you can see that her eyes are closed. Perhaps she’s sleepwalking? Or sleepfloating, as it were. You chuckle when you think of how she sleepwalks/drifts similarly to how she does in reality when she’s both really drunk and really lazy, which is not all that uncommon.

It takes some time for her to reach your newfound balcony, but when she does, you grab her by the sleeve and tug her to the ground. She mumbles something that sounds a little like, “Janey?”, although it could have just as easily been a lot of other things. Regardless of what she said, though, she thankfully stays put, hovering just over the ground.

You haven’t the faintest idea of where you might be, but even if this is merely a particularly vivid dream, you are loathe to allow one of your friends to wander about a potentially dangerous dreamscape.

You’re quite aware that beasts like those that inhabit your island are not particularly safe or even normally around and about. Even in movies, if creatures like some of your fellow islanders were to show up, most people would start panicking.

Well, Roxy is asleep and not about to panic, apparently, but you’re sure she appreciates the sentiment, and besides, you don’t know whether or not they’re apathetic to random girls drifting around in purple pajamas.

Uh, probably not.

At length, you become aware of another purple speck in the distance. This one, however, moves with a purpose, and very quickly. It isn’t long before you can see spiky anime hair and pointy anime shades, and a silly sort of grin makes its way onto your face.

Dirk Strider alights on your balcony, as awake as possible and apparently pretty startled to see you. “English?” he queries.

“In the flesh,” you joke, and you’re relieved to see him relax a bit. “So, old chap, what brings you here?”

“Chasing errant dames across universes. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Universes?”

“Admittedly, these may not count as universes in themselves, but there are enough varied landscapes, as well as enough distance, that it sure as hell feels like it. I mean, damn, how does Lalonde even do this all of the time without meaning to?” He tilts his head at her with one of his more expressive faces conveying exasperation with a dash of almost sibling-like fondness, and while briefly regards her, you have enough time to feel very awkward.

After all, you were very recently speaking to another universe’s him, out of curiosity that you couldn’t 100% say was entirely innocuous.

You wonder what he would think if you told him. He would likely say something about the irony, but would he be offended, because you want to meet up with another version of him? (You almost begin to stutter something like, “By the way, Strider, if ever I were to do something as silly as go behind your back to speak to another you, please avoid offense as I was only curious and you know how my curiosity gets the better of me all of the time and for pete’s sake why am I thinking about what I might say if I were to say something that I should never say so much?”)

Or maybe pleased? You think he’s fairly narcissistic, because of the amount of time he must spend on his hairstyle to keep it like that (Although Dirk’s-- Strider’s-- Alternate Universe Dirk Strider’s hair apparently still defied gravity and spiked out, more neatly but less intentionally than this Dirk’s, from underneath that hat. You’re still really curious about why that Dirk was wearing a hat, but it’s not like you could ask this Dirk.), so perhaps he would be flattered that you wanted to get to know him better.

You can almost imagine his expression: a half-smirk, his gaze burning through you even though his shades, a vague tilt to his head, and some infuriating, smooth, and infuriatingly smooth comment on his lips (lips, woah, you are not comparing and contrasting the different Dirks’ lips, this is not a thing that’s happening, okay.), dropping from his lips (nope), and maybe his shades would even cheesily flash like one of his animes that you watched a few episodes of to humor him once.

He has long since noticed your distraction and staring (He’s probably as well tuned to you as you are to him, actually.), and when you slowly emerge from the precarious slopes of your mind, he quips, “Like what you see?”

Somehow, you fight down the majority of the blush that rises to your cheeks to retort, “I was merely marvelling that you are apparently willing to walk out in public in purple pajamas. Roxy is one thing, but I’m rather surprised about you!”

He snorts slightly. “Comes with the whole dreaming schtick. I guess I could change, but back on Derse I need to be able to hide, so it’s either this or the fancy-ass stuff in the closet. Just because I look badass in it doesn’t mean it’s suitable for chasing runaways in all the time--” He suddenly jerks to a pause, expression becoming distant like he’s thinking of faraway things.

You’re a bit anxious, so you ask, “... Strider?” There’s no response, so you try again, a bit louder. When he still doesn’t react, you prod him and call him Dirk.

He shifts, gives you the strangest look, and hisses, “Hang on, English.” 

Reluctant though you may be, you do so. It’s not like you have anything to gain from distracting him, although you can’t tell what you’re distracting him from, and this allows you time to make more comparisons.

Gadzooks, did you really just say that? How many times is a fellow supposed to question himself on his word choice in relation to his chum in a day, anyhow?

No matter what, though, you do find yourself absorbed in examining the teenager before you. This is, after all, an opportune time to make observations you wouldn’t normally.

In the time before he stirs, scaring your gaze back to anywhere but him, you think of a lot of things. He has more freckles than you thought, and that’s kind of attractive in a somewhat silly way. There’s also a small, pale scar on his cheek, spearing a freckle or two (it’s really tiny and yeah, you would’ve never noticed if it weren’t for this). A million other things whirl through your mind and it’s kind of embarrassing to you how you’re so curious about him that you can’t even comprehend everything that you’re seeing.

He now gives you an ironic pat on the head and then flashsteps over to Roxy. “You’ve been asleep for several hours, so I recommend you wake up soon.”

“So I am sleeping?”

“Yeah. Is this your first time waking up?”

“Seems like it. Wait just a moment, what is this place?”

“You’re only questioning that now?” he hefts Roxy onto his shoulder like she weighs nearly nothing and doesn’t acknowledge your perplexed stare.

“I was until you came along and derailed my train of thought!”

“I’m not gonna be satisfied with that until you tell me the death rate and unless it’s over 90 percent.”

“It was a fucking hundred. Jesus, Strider, take it easy on my poor brain trains.”

“Good, good. Need me to wake you up back on the ship?”

“You still haven’t explained where this is, or what you’re doing with Roxy there.”

“Oh, right.” he seems pretty distracted, but he’s not totally zoning out like before, so you assume that whatever was going on before has lessened. “Crocker’s told you this, right? Your dreamself died before waking up, so I guess when you sleep, you wake up here as your dead dreamself. This is pretty much the afterlife.”

“I, what?”

“Yeah. Not much of worth, though. Nothing I’m interested in to be found here. I’m not interested in exploring the memories of dead people I don’t know or care about, and I don’t know why Roxy keeps drifting out here. Also, it’s usually a good idea to avoid talking to dead people.”

“Is it, now.”

“Mm. Also, like I just said, Roxy ends up in random dream bubbles, and it falls to me to drag her back to her own place or she’d just wander around, getting nearly killed by pretty much everything that has ever existed anywhere. It’s kind of a pain, but whatever. Anyways, waking you up now.”

“What on earth are you on about n--”

“ow?” Suddenly, you are being shaken awake by Dirk Strider in reality. It’s pretty disorienting, as one second you were in your comfy house with Dirk and Roxy in their comfy pajamas, and now you’re in a comfy but less familiar room, with Dirk in a less comfy but more familiar outfit, and no Roxy slung over his shoulder.

“Bro was looking for you, by the way. Seeya later.” And now he’s not even giving you a chance to question him, as he is quickly leaving the room, his arm twitching a little like it thinks it should be holding something over his shoulder.

With nothing else to do, as you feel quite rested now, you suppose you shall search for Dave (you assume that he meant Dave, because he’s not aware that you know anyone else that might go by Bro.), after of course freshening up a bit.

Just because it’s not a date doesn’t mean you can’t spruce up a bit, you reassure yourself.

==> Jake: Flip out for reasons which you may or may not discuss with yourself for the benefit of someone who you’re not aware is watching you. Maybe.


	4. ==> Jake: Flip out for reasons which you may or may not discuss with yourself for the benefit of someone who you’re not aware is watching you. Maybe.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A second meeting. Arcades and pizzas and invasions of personal space, oh my!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maaaan this took me awhile to write and then it took awhile to get beta-ed because I’m really idiotic about a lot of things. Oh well. I’m pretty proud of this chapter in general, though, especially because my beta is Marzichan who is one of my favorite writers. So not only was it a huge honor, but I’m pretty sure this chapter turned out awesome and a lot less full of weird mistakes than the others. <3
> 
> Also this is also posted to my new-ish writing tumblr, as well as everything else on this account: http://sinemeaanima.tumblr.com/  
> I think some people prefer AO3 and some people prefer tumblr? Also, I'll use tumblr if I want to post updates on the status of chapters, small talk, and the occasional crappy piece of art. Also I'm warning you to not go to my personal because it is useless. Okay I think that's everything I can mention before I'm out of time and I need to run elsewhere so I hope you enjoy the chapter!

==> Jake: Flip out for reasons which you may or may not discuss with yourself for the benefit of someone who you’re not aware is watching you. Maybe.

It’s a bit too early for you to flip out over that particular thing, which you’re not actually aware of right now, don’t you think?

Yes. You do think so. As much as you can without actually consciously thinking these things.

Ahem. Anyhoo. You hurry to the ablution chambers (Goshdarnit, did the trolls really get you saying that like it’s a normal thing to say?), wash up, dress maybe just a bit more nicely than the norm, and set out to find Dave Strider, refreshed. 

Unfortunately, Striders are pretty much known for being elusive, and it’s only when you take a break in the kitchen that he shows up. “Way to keep a guy waiting, man. Sure you’re good enough for my bro?”

You huff at him. “It’s your own fault for being so damn hard to find!”

He just snorts a bit. “If that’s what you think, good luck trying to catch Bro. I think I actually saw him with my eyes for maybe ten percent of my life. Or five.”

“What, really?” Again, you seriously question Dirk’s parenting skills.

Disturbingly bad parenting skills, however, are not the focus of anything right now, so you let it slide when Dave replies with a short, “Enough about that. Strider Express leaving in 5 seconds, hurry up.”

“Strider, is there something wrong? You seem awfully grumpy...”

“Hurry the fuck up.” Yeah, he’s grumpy. What could be going on? Before you can grill him about this, he is pulling out his turntables and saying something about “God damn it there is no way this is what I should be doing right now okay fuck this shit,” and then oh wait he’s gone.

“Wai--”

And then almost as quickly, he reappears, much calmer and even boasting a smug expression. “Sorry about that, man. Dude had shit to do. Looks like I’m your ride instead. You gonna pay me for my services this time?”

Now you’re just gaping at him, and you only just kind of blurt out, “what just happened and why would I pay you?”

“Just told you, didn’t I? I’m from a good while in your future, and I’ll just let you know that you paid me in boonbucks every time after the first.” His expression is even more smug and you really can’t tell if he’s pulling the wool over your eyes because he is from the future.

He holds an expectant hand and you sullenly hand over the cash.

You really can’t stand Striders sometimes. That expression is really infuriating and perplexing and makes you feel like a fool, and this isn’t your first time seeing it, on either Strider.

“Right, get on board and let’s go.” You grab the back of his shirt, and he pulls out his turntables again.

You think this trip might have been a lot smoother, but you’re entirely uncertain. Apparently Hope is your domain, and not Time, as interesting as that might have been. You’re not even sure how your Hope powers will manifest, but it seems like a more abstract concept and difficult to manipulate, although that might just be because you haven’t seen them in action before.

The two of you appear behind the record store again, but it’s a much neater landing and you’re still on your feet.

“Thanks muchly, Dave!” Admittedly, you might be too enthusiastic in your thanks, but he just smiles at you a little. There’s a slightly sad element to his expression, though, but you don’t question it for now.

“No prob... Oh, hang on. Let him know your ‘family’ is leaving in two days, alright?”

You give him a puzzled look, and he exhales slightly. “You only appear in this part of the timeline yesterday, today, tomorrow, and the day after. After that, the next time you visit will be further into the future, after baby me showed up.”

“But, why can’t you just send me anyway?”

“Time doesn’t work like that. I don’t actually get to bend time how I like it, I have to follow what paradox space has already set out. Besides, in my past and your future, you were the one who told me that that was what was happening.”

“The only reason I’d say that would be because you’re telling me now, and you’re telling me now because I said so before, but I said so before because you’re telling me now and oh flying fuck this is giving me a headache.” You groan and massage the side of your face.

He shrugs. “You learn to deal with it. Are you going to go on your date or not?”

“It really isn’t a date, or if it is it’s some kind of ironic bro-date which Strider’s humoring me with because that’s pretty much all he’s about, bros and irony. And puppets, and ponies, how could I frickin’ forget those? But it isn’t a real date.”

You try to muster annoyance at his overly entertained expression, but he just pats you on the head and tells you, “Be a good girl now, alright?” before disappearing from view again.

With him gone, you can either loiter around awkwardly, or go find your ironic bro-date who is not an actual date. You’re pretty excited to see him again, though, so you go after the second option.

You check a clock as you walk past-- It’s 1:46, you’ll be on time.

In fact, you arrive around 2:03, but you don’t have a watch synced to this time on you and it doesn’t make too much of a difference as Dirk is four minutes later than you, and you’re also so glad that he actually showed up that you don’t mind.

“Hey,” he greets you.

“It’s jolly good to see you again, Strider!” you exclaim in reply. He shakes his head just a tiny bit, like he’s both amused and confused by how genuinely excited you are to see him.

“If you say so,” he says in a monotone.

“Of course I say so.” You put extra emphasis in your words, maybe to make up for how flat he’s trying to make his own.

He doesn’t give you any words in response, but he shoves his hands in his pockets and gives you a hooded stare from behind his shades instead. You know he thinks you can’t tell, so you humor him and wait a moment before you say anything with a tilt to your head.

“So, are we going anywhere or what?”

“Sure. Hope you like arcades.” You may not have ever been to one on earth, but there was one on Dave’s planet (sponsored by the LOHACSE) that you all visited and you like to consider yourself pretty darn good at most of the games there.

“Fuck yes.” The distance is pretty short, but of course it’s more than long enough for two rash boys to declare that the other’s ass would be soundly kicked to oblivion and back.

The place isn’t particularly well-lit, but it’s not too dirty or shady looking, and with the glowing screens taking up all of your attention, it’s not as though you need a strong light source.

He beats you with relative ease at a lot of games, but it only takes you one go to get used to it on the shooting games and then you destroy him at any game involving a gun. He takes it in good humor, though, and a small, distracted smile pushes its way onto his face when he watches you whooping in exultation (you barely notice this yourself, though, because you are too busy being proud), and also because all he has to do is drag you to another game and you’ll be swearing like a sailor again. It’s not that you’re bad at them, but he handles the controls with a deft precision and he’s clearly been here before.

You wouldn’t be surprised if he was just naturally good at everything including video games, either. That line of thought brings you to the extreme grace of his fighting style, or at least your Dirk’s fighting style.

When he was moving slow enough to be visible, or after you convinced Roxy to convince Dave to alchemize a video camera that can capture his movement because he was being unfair during group videos, it was truly a sight to see.

You’re not even sure you can find an animal comparison for him in times like that. Even with the best camera Dave has made, slowed down to the point where his surroundings were maddeningly staggered, he still seemed to fluidly slide from one place to another, and every move he made was deliberate and used to its greatest extent.

Blade and shades flashing with a gleam, lean but powerful muscles working under his skin, visible when he was wearing a tighter shirt (“Don’t worry about it, Ms... Maryam, I haven’t outgrown these too much. It’s fine.”) sinuous form shifting under--

Oh shit you just lost completely. You curse loudly, eliciting a few stares, but most of the other people present have long gotten used to it.

He gives himself a moment to savor the victory, then takes a step back from the system. He’s guarded again, reluctant, and for a moment you panic and try to figure out if you’ve done anything that seemed even remotely untoward.

You’re spared the worry (and also the continuation of that line of thought) when he says gruffly, “It’s late. Are you hungry?”

“Oh! Oh. Actually, now that you mention it, I’m quite famished!” It’s true, you didn’t realize your stomach’s complaints until just now. “I suppose I was simply having too much fun. What time is it, anyhow?”

“... 8:30.”

“Oh goodness.”

“What, do you have somewhere to be?”

“Well, no. Dinner with you sounds wonderful, actually!” Wow, you worded that really awkwardly. “A-as two blokes just sharing a meal, you know. Not like a date or any preposterous thing like that! Haha, uh, I mean, you’re probably not interested in me in that sort of way! Oh golly I am making a fool out of myself aren’t I, um.”

He now regards you with faint fascination, like you’re somehow revealing some minor secret to him that he hadn’t quite understood before. You flush under his gaze and quickly say, “Well, er, where might we eat, good buddy old pal? Do they serve food here?”

“Yeah, but it’s basically shit. We’ll eat at a pizza parlor down the street. That cool with you?”

You nod with enthusiasm, so the two of you take the hop, skip, and a jump to the place.

It’s a relatively nice, if small, place. As you step through the door, you notice a glowing sign advertising toppings, with pictures of many tantalizingly adventurous novelty pizzas as well as boring normal pizzas, and lists of all available toppings. The sheer size of said list has your eyes wide with excitement.

Directly below the sign is a counter with one cash register and an employee who is clearly bored but pretending to be cheery, and more advertisements of more wonderfully strange toppings. On the sides of the aisle to the counter are numerous tables and chairs, and there are booths tucked against the walls.

“In case you somehow failed to notice, this place is known for its novelty pizzas. They make perfectly good plain ones, though.” Bro murmurs as he takes purposeful strides to the counter.

“Why on God’s Earth would you--”

He’s already at the counter and saying, “One large plain pizza,”, and your eyes widen in absolute horror.

“Wait, no! Oh my goodness, Strider, how could you even consider such a thing? How could you?” Both Strider and the cashier are giving you strange looks, but you continue, “My god, man, you just said this place was known for its novelty pizzas!”

“... So?”

“So? Are you positively dense? You are passing up the chance for a culinary adventure!”

“Culinary adventure, more like culinary oh my god why did I put this in my mouth where is the nearest thing that I can throw up in.”

“Rude! And yes, maybe sometimes adventures end up that way, but you might also chance upon a metaphorical chest of gold and treasures to the tastebuds!”  
“There’s a reason there are always skeletons lying by the side of the path on ‘adventures’.”

“Then we’ll just have to make an effort to not be one of those skeletons, but even so, the reward is worth the danger!”

“Uh, no.”

“Don’t you want some adventure to spice up your life?”

“I’m totally cool with staying home all day.”

“Augh, you’re beyond help.” You turn to the person at the register and say, “Please don’t mind him, may we have a large, hmm... How about a large Reuben Sandwich Pizza, extra toppings? By the way, I’m paying.”

“Fuck no. Plain and I’m paying.”

“I insist, Strider.”

“No, shut up.”

“I most certainly will not! Miss, please enter our order, the one that I stated, before this loudmouth can say anything else.”

“Shit, listen, nothing this guy says has any importance. He’s pretty much decoration. There will be nothing weird on our pizza, it will be as simple as possible, like his brain.”

“Rubbish! I’ll have you know that I’m quite the complex young man and also the one who’s paying for this, so I will also pick what’s on it! Fine, if you’re so opposed to that... Spaghetti and Potato Chip--”

“Dear fuck no.”

“Hell fucking yes.”

“Excuse me, but could you please order already?” The cashier interrupts.

“What do you think I’m trying to--” Your simultaneous answers are cut off when someone behind you clears their throat, and you both turn to see a small shoe-tapping watch-checking throat-clearing angrily-mumbling crowd behind you.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” you begin to say.

The cashier interrupts yet again to say with a clearly false look of infinite patience, “We have an option for pizzas with separate toppings on each half, would that be better?”

“Yeah, sure,” Strider replies, “plain one side, whatever the crazy guy wants on the other.”

Now that you don’t have to worry for Strider’s tastes at all, you go ahead and order pretty much most of what you’re curious about on the lists. You try to be quick about it, but it’s not quick enough to not notice his growing look of horror.

Gosh that made you giggle midsentence. Darn you, Strider!

The order is placed as quickly as possible and the bill is split evenly (much to your displeasure, because the toppings should tilt it far in your direction, but you resolve to just pay him back later), and the two of you escape to a booth in the corner, out of sight from the irate customers that had been kept waiting.

You quickly dissolve into fits of giggles, which grow into boisterous laughter, while Strider gives you a look which you’re pretty sure is some weird mix of exhilarated and confused.

Once you’ve calmed down enough to listen and speak, he mutters, “What even just happened?”

“Why, typical teenage shenanigans, I should think!” Not that you’re so familiar with typical teenage shenanigans, but you think this is how it is. Besides, even if it weren’t, it feels right.

“That so,” he mutters.

“I think so! Do you not go out with friends often?” Dave did say that his brother was an ‘antisocial bastard’, but

Oh shit he’s clamming up. “Not interested in it,” he mumbles sullenly.

You have this horrible feeling that if you don’t say anything to rectify the situation, he will probably sit there like a statue for the rest of the night, so you do. “Well, if nothing else, might I hope that you enjoy my company...?” Your most earnest expression is on your face, and you unconsciously lean forward just a bit.

He stares at you, pokerface so firmly set in place that you’re afraid you can’t reach him through it.

Then a waitress comes by and places your pizza, two plates, and two glasses of water between you. She also asks if you want any drinks besides water, to which the two of you say no thank you.

You’re not sure if you’re grateful for or upset by the distraction, but at the very least, Strider hasn’t withdrawn completely.

Instead, he’s boggling absently at the mound of scrumptious toppings on your half of the pizza. “Is this actually a nightmare?”

“It’s a dream come true!” you exclaim, taking a slice and biting into it. “Mmm...” His gaze is completely incredulous, but it drops out of your view as you close your eyes and savor the complete randomness and variety of your little treasure. “You ought to try a slice, Strider!”

“No fucking thank you,” he shoots back as he picks up a boringly topping-free slice.

You slip into a similar sort of conversation as yesterday, where you do most of the speaking, and you’re a little worried that you’ve rolled back all of the progress the two of you made at becoming open with one another at the arcade.

Thankfully, he’s still a little talkative, and you slowly ease him back out to something like talkativeness.

The pizza is long gone, but you’re still talking. Debating the finer points of guns vs. swords, in fact. This is a long-standing and deep argument which will take a long time, for which you are glad.

You’re pretty sure you’ve been here long enough that if the conversation stops, you’ll have to leave to meet up with Dave, and you just want to stay here with this Dirk.

This Dirk is alluring to you in ways that you don’t quite understand, still. It’s a bit dizzying how easily you find yourself arrested in his gaze and his words, sparse as those may be.

For the most part, you’re the only one reaching out right now. But you find yourself to be fine with that, maybe. Possibly. Probably. Gosh.

All too soon, he checks the time and drawls, “guess it’s time to go.”

You pout just a little bit, but he catches it. “You don’t need to go making that face, kid. You free tomorrow around noon?”

“Certainly!” But that reminds you. “Oh, but...”

He definitely notices your crestfallen face. “What’s up?”

“... My, family, is heading back the day after tomorrow.”

He’s clearly not exactly happy with this, but he just says, “oh.”

“But, well, there’s still two more days!” You try to smile. He doesn’t, but you weren’t expecting him to.

“Yeah.”

You peer at him worriedly, but he just stands up, so you do the same.

When you’re outside, you give him an anxious look, but he’s looking away, so you say, “Hey.”

He looks at you, and you ask him what direction he’s going in. He gestures with a jerk of his head, and you say that you’re unfortunately headed in the opposite direction, so you must part here.

You don’t want to let this silence stretch out so awkwardly, so you do the thing which comes most naturally to you under the circumstances. This isn’t something that you usually do, but somehow... it feels like the right thing to do.

Your hand reaches out, almost of its own accord, pushes up his hat a bit (his hand flies up to keep the hat from coming off, which you find yourself just a little bit entertained by). and lightly touches the back of his neck to guide his head towards you.

He flinches but doesn’t move away.

Closer, and a little bit closer...

And you successfully tap your foreheads together. It’s an effort to not screw it up completely, what with the brim of the hat and his shades and your glasses, but somehow it happened without mishap.

At this distance, you can see the outlines of his eyes, although the shades are so dark that they obscure the colors underneath. His breathing is shallow and quick, but it evens out a bit as the two of you stay like that just a little longer, and just wow.

There’s something about this which you think is nicer than a lot of things. You feel a sense of closeness that almost brings you to happy delirium, and though you’re not thinking full thoughts for fear that they would somehow disturb this peace, you notice something before he pulls away.

A little scar, which spears two freckles, on his cheek.

On your Dirk, it was a stolen secret, one taken from him when he was distracted.

But here, you’ve seen it because, somehow, he trusts you. This difference positively blows you away.

Of course, he might also just be more used to touchy-feely people, but you won’t let that thought into your mind right now.

He’s hesitant, reluctant, in his farewells now, but also just a little bit more earnest about it. You wave enthusiastically in return, and pretend that you only look back once or twice as you take off in what you assume is the direction of the record store.

Thankfully, Dave finds you before you can get hopelessly lost, and apparently it’s the Dave who disappeared in the morning because he gives you a curt but contrite enough apology about it.

You’re too happy with your day to be even a little bit angry, and you wouldn’t have been angry anyways. You even only lightly rebuke him when he asks if you scored with his bro, to which he just snorts.

The journey back is just a bit bumpier, but it’s not even a little bit as bumpy or insane as the scene which greets you upon your return.

Smuppets, orange soda, shitty swords, and various memorabilia fly through the air like it’s nobody’s business. Before you can register the cause of any of this, you become a most unfortunate accidental target of a giant goddamn pile of smuppets.

There is so much plush rump ramming into you at a painful speed that you end up bowled over and buried.

You think someone told you before to flip out (except that you weren’t aware of it at the time)? Maybe, you’re not sure. Is now a time to flip out regardless?

Yes.

==> Jake: Flip out.


End file.
